


Simply Mad

by Croik, delina



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jazz Era AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10111982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik, https://archiveofourown.org/users/delina/pseuds/delina
Summary: A glimpse of a Jazz Era AU for the Victoriano siblings.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jazitup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazitup/gifts).



The owner was mad. Everyone knew that.

No one quite knew _how_ mad. It was difficult to judge when no one lived to tell the tale. All the patrons of The Manor had to go on were rumors, and those they had in spades. Ruben Victoriano's killed twelve men, some of them said. He wears his victims' skin like a suit, said others. Some even claimed he walked straight outta Hell just for the sake of selling them half-decent liquor beyond the eyes of law and God. It would have been in any man's best interest to avoid him if even a quarter of the gossip was true.

If not for The Manor's joint owner, anyway.

She took to the stage every Saturday night, dolled up in satin and fur, a perfect, slender goddess among the bar's regular patrons. Her hair was rich and dark, curling in gentle waves, lustrous and taunting, her long body even more so. Even the twist map of scar tissue that made up her face only added to her otherworldly allure. Any mere mortal would have risked life and limb to get their hands on her, and that was _before_ she opened her mouth.

_After_ , they were reduced to clay, because Laura Victoriano had the voice of an angel. Through her deep, flowing melodies she painted a vivid landscape of all life's beauties and sorrows, her voice somehow innocent and sultry at once, full of regret and hope and longing. Every verse was a sonnet, every hum a sensual kiss. Oh, how many drunks had swayed with her on a cold night wishing she sang for them.

If only they knew that she was just as mad as her brother.

He always made an appearance for the last song of the evening. It might have been wise to leave before that last call, to avoid being marked by the cold, pale eyes of the ghastly owner, if only Laura didn't always save her best for him. Life and limb they risked as the ghoul emerged from his office to sit and listen to her song-bird soliloquy. Her one blind eye was always on him. In the dark of the lounge, the world narrowed and the air electrified, setting their bond on prominent, mind-numbing display.

And God help you if you interrupted. One wrong drunken hoot, one misplaced leer, and Victoriano's gaze was on you. Once the tabs were collected and the band packing their instruments, a firm hand took your shoulder, and charming waitress invited you to meet the boss. To meet the _basement_. And that's when everyone left, pretending not to notice Victoriano waiting for you in the doorway, and his bouncers escorting you down, down into too-bright basement that no one ever came out of.

With patrons making their exit, Laura descended from stage and joined her brother, their figures melting together into one misshapen silhouette against the hell-glow that awaited them. With his arm around her waist they descended together, one poorly-healed scar with only a crooked seam separating them.

Both of them, broken but devoted. Both of them quite mad.


End file.
